


canyon moon (the world's happy waiting)

by mozartspiano



Series: baby come on [2]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:33:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22081600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mozartspiano/pseuds/mozartspiano
Summary: Kyle would have thought that after three years he would be used to waking up to Will staring at him in this wide-eyed, unnerving way he has."Weirdo," Kyle says, into his pillow, closing his eyes again.
Relationships: Kyle Dubas/William Nylander
Series: baby come on [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1589488
Comments: 11
Kudos: 156





	canyon moon (the world's happy waiting)

**Author's Note:**

> i posted my xmas fic the day after xmas so have this new years day fic on jan 2. 
> 
> title from harry styles' _canyon moon_.

Kyle would have thought that after three years he would be used to waking up to Will staring at him in this wide-eyed, unnerving way he has. 

"Weirdo," Kyle says, into his pillow, closing his eyes again. 

Will squirms closer to him. They're already touching toes to shoulders, Will's glorious right thigh over Kyle's hip, faces inches away from each other. Kyle doesn't know if it's the million siblings thing or the hockey thing or if it's just Will, that he can't sit next to Kyle for longer than forty-five seconds before turning into an octopus. 

"Kyle," Will whispers, loud, "do you know what day it is?"

"Wednesday."

"Kyle," Will says, louder, "Kyle it is New Year's Day."

"Uh huh," Kyle says. He keeps his eyes closed. The night before drifts in his memory: John's crowded kitchen, ranting about Player's Safety with Zach, getting tugged onto the porch by Will as the clock ticked down to midnight, his smile bright. "Strangely enough I remember the cheering and the sparklers and the kissing." 

"But do you know what New Year's Day means?"

"It's a U2 song," Kyle says because he isn't awake enough to stop himself from being a bit of a dick.

"Kyle."

"William."

He opens his eyes. Will's eyeballs are about an inch from his own, which is weird and far too common and useful, because Kyle can see them without his glasses. He's too goddamn fucking good-looking, his eyes like the postcard of the Adriatic Sea that Kyle's Aunt sent him when she was travelling last year.

"You said you were going to propose to me on New Year's Day." 

"Yeah," Kyle says, "before you decided that a 5am Christmas proposal at Pearson Airport's Parking Lot 3 was more romantic."

Will leans back so that Kyle can see his entire face and the unimpressed look on it. Kyle likes to think himself immune to William's general William-ness, having seen him drool in his sleep and laugh so hard Coors Light went up his nose and cry really big, ugly tears at the end of _ Moonlight _, face all splotchy red and screwed up like a bullied kid in a movie about baseball. But Kyle's got a bottle of wine still sloshing around in him and his head hurts and his fiance is pretty devastatingly hot, even when he's making that face.

"Yes?"

"I just think," Will says, "that you got a proposal so why haven't I gotten a proposal? Don't I deserve a proposal, Kyle? Just because I'm the Gryffindor of this relationship doesn't mean I don't want to be kneeled next to."

"I- that was a lot to unpack, darling."

"Kyle."

"The ring I got you is in my office," Kyle says, "Behind my copy of Adam's _ Hitchhiker _ series. Figured you wouldn't be snooping around there."

"I don't snoop," Will says, grinning, because he knows he's a big snoop. 

"You can go get it if you want."

"Kyle," Will says, scandalized. "Kyle Dubas." Kyle laughs. Will jabs his fingers in Kyle's sides and continues: "Do you really want to start the year off this way? Me having to go find my own _ engagement ring _ behind your dusty books because you couldn't be bothered to get out of bed? What will I tell our children?"

"Poor kids," Kyle says and he wishes he could hide his grin, "they'll be in therapy for years to deal with the trauma."

"Kyle," Will says and his eyes are kind, laughing, his smile gentle. 

"Yeah yeah. Give me five more minutes."

"Five?"

"Five," Kyle says. He drags his arm over William, pulls him in until they're stupid close again, hot air and Will's hair clinging to Kyle's mouth. "Then shower, coffee, breakfast, skating rink, proposal."

"Promise?"

"Can't disappoint the kids," Kyle says, dry, smiling when he feels Will's laugh against his throat.

"It's nice out."

"Uh huh."

Kyle looks over at Will. He has his scarf twisted around his neck in this complicated wreath, European and stylish in a way Kyle gave up trying to be before he could even try. He's wearing the hat that Kyle's sister knit him for Christmas and a big, eager smile, nose pink. 

"Only a bit windy."

"Are you going to do a big speech?" Will asks, delighted. "Like a big romantic thing about how much you love me? You're so bad at those."

"Be patient."

"Or are you going to be you and make it about boring stuff? Did you write the speech down on cue cards? Are you going to say our love is a process?"

"You know, on second thought, I don't feel like going skating today at all, let's go home-"

"No no no," Will says, tugging on Kyle's arm with both of his hands and laughing. He gets himself in Kyle's space. "I'll stop talking now, I'm sorry. Please, I promise I'll be good."

Kyle kisses him. It's easy, kissing Will. His hands tighten on Kyle's arm, before one lets go to cup the side of Kyle's face. His mittens are soft; they make Kyle flush, somehow nostalgic and new and too warm all at once.

"Excuse me," comes a voice near them and - 

"Oh sorry-"

"God, we're blocking the whole sidewalk-"

"No problem," says one of Kyle's neighbours. He's an older gentleman who walks two greyhounds; they wear these funny blue sweaters and like to poke their nose in Kyle's crotch when they stop to talk in the street. One of the greyhounds does this now. The other one sniffs Will's hand. 

"Happy New Year, boys," his neighbour says, winking, before whistling away with his dogs.

Will giggles. He wants a dog, has been begging for one from Kyle since the summer at least. Kyle watches him watch them go. When he looks back over, his cheeks pink when he sees Kyle looking. 

"Ready?" Kyle asks, and it's softer than he meant it to be. Will nods.

The rink is pretty empty, a small family and a lone girl, skating laps with headphones in. They sit side by side on the picnic bench near the entrance to lace up. It's hypnotizing watching Will, practiced as he is. "This is nice," he says when he's done and Kyle's still tugging on his left skate. He's looking around, elbows back against the picnic table. Looks totally at home, wherever he is.

"Glad you like it."

"My mum used to take us out skating over the holidays," he says. "I always had to help my sisters tie their skates before I was allowed to go play."

"That's cute."

"I'm a very cute person, Kyle."

The ice is bumpy; it reminds Kyle of the outdoor rink in the back of his grandparents place. He used to spend half his Christmas break there, ferocious games with cousins as kids and then solo skates as the sun was sinking, circling around and around while trying to imagine living six hundred kilometres away from this place. He remembers thinking then, that there couldn't be a home for him anywhere that wasn't the rink in his grandparent's backyard.

Almost as if he can hear Kyle's thoughts and wants to prove him wrong, Will squeezes his hand. 

"Where do you want to do it?" he asks, smiling sweet and brattish. "Do you want me to stand a certain way?"

"The more you keep talking the less sure I am about this whole marriage thing."

"No tradebacks," Will says, grinning. "You already said yes."

"Ah, damn, I guess I did."

Kyle loves to torture him, loves to watch the way his long nose goes scrunched and his fingers restless; but he also has been sitting with this ring since August and wants to see how it looks against William's skin, if the cool metal of the band will make him shiver when Kyle slides it on.

"Okay."

"Okay? Here? This is the spot?"

Kyle tugs his mittens off, drops them onto the ice. "Yep."

"Dropping the gloves."

"Serious business," Kyle says and then, as graceful as he can in skates, gets down on one knee.

Will's face doesn't transform so much as it softens. His playful grin from throughout the day becomes sweeter, his eyes gone warm. He lets Kyle take one of his hands, lets him peel off his mitten.

"Oh," he says in a breath and it's shaking. Good.

"William," Kyle says and - 

He did have a speech. It existed as a 300 word document through all of autumn and into winter, something to keep him company while Will went away on road games. He printed it out the night they got back from Sault Ste. Marie, after Will had gone to bed, and spent an hour editing it. He memorized it, after. It's everything he wants to say.

But then Will smiles and. He can't remember a word.

"You make me the person I want to be," he says. His knee, pressed to the ice, is sharp in its chill. "You make me better. You make me good, Will, you - I feel like I could do anything, as long as I know you're watching."

Will's nose twitches and then his eyes are all the more bluer, wet around the edges and beginning around his eyelashes. He drags his free hand under his nose and sniffs, hard, to stop the tears. Ugly crier.

"Okay?"

"Go on."

"I like hanging out with you," Kyle says. His chest is tight. "I want to hang out with you for a long time. You have so much light and I - it's a joy to be near you. I'd like to be near you for the rest of my life, if that's okay with you."

Will's voice is wrecked when he says, "It is. It absolutely is."

"You sure?"

"Shut up, of course I'm sure."

"So you'll marry me then?"

His smile comes out like sun through trees, like something kind, like a warmth that sits underneath your belly. Kyle watches him wipe the stray tears from around his eyes and nod, up and down and up and down.

"Yes yes yes," he says, sniffling and smiling and laughing at himself. "Where's my ring, baby?"

Kyle grabs onto both of Will's hands, lets him pull until they're standing against each other, faces close. Will's smile is brighter from this distance; it looks like something Kyle would like to keep in his pocket for rainy days, something small and private and quiet.

"I looked for ages," Kyle says, pulling the little periwinkle box out of the pocket of his jacket. "And I - I'm sorry, if this isn't you. We can exchange it, if it isn't."

Will's fingers open the hinge. Kyle watches Will's face, his pale skin and the freckles around his mouth and his little ears. Inside the box, nestled between two pillows of satin, is a pearl on a slim band of platinum.

"Oh," Will says, quiet.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Will's mouth is sweet and clever against his. It brushes against his chin, the side of his neck, before he pulls back. "Yes, Kyle. Yes. Thank you."

"My pleasure," and it is. 

Kyle's never thought that this, that marriage, would matter to him. It mattered to him as far as it mattered to Will and Will's family and Kyle's grandmother. It mattered because it made Will happy to dream about, and Kyle's good at making Will happy. It mattered despite the fact that marriage is an economic arrangement, sexist and stupid and old-fashioned, something to roll his eyes at during his high school's excuse for sex-ed. 

But now, seeing how the pearl fits between Will's knuckles, it becomes a bit clearer. 

"Happy New Year, Will," Kyle says.

Will's smile is huge, gorgeous. He looks like every one of Kyle's daydreams. He puts his nose up against Kyle's neck, burrows his face there. Will's laughing already but Kyle rubs his ears anyways, then his cheek, his chin so he can tip it up and kiss him, kiss him until they're out of breath and the only sound between them is the creak of their skates over the ice.


End file.
